Armageddon… and what it means for travel

posted in: Australia | 0

I’ve been researching a RV trip around Europe next year when I stumbled across an article about the 2012 predictions. You know the one. On December 21st, 2012 at 11:11 am, it’s the end of the Mayan calendar and the world as we know it will end. Right.

Now, I’m all for change. I’m not keen on routine, and have a fairly adaptable nature. I believe we do need a bit of a planetary shake-up. But what bothers me about the shake-up we supposedly have coming… is that it will be permanent. It’s not as though I can gather up my loved ones and see the apocalypse out in a tin hut 100 km inland, and then return to Sydney and order a strong flat white in a café that isn’t quite as full as it was before.

And there’s no point looking at a map of Europe and working out a route to take next year. Because Europe will change. Everything will change. Countries will sink, new lands will rise, and most of the world’s population will be wiped out. Massive tsunamis will obliterate the coast. Every single infrastructure that we have today will disappear and we will be flung into a world where nothing, not Britney, not Lindsey… not even Brangelina matters. The only thing we will care about is survival. Basically, the whole world will be Darfur.

My brain has been seared with these prophecies and now everywhere I look are reminders of what needs to be done before Armageddon. For instance… I need to stock up on Dr. Hauschka and Papaw ointment. I need to learn how to grow vegetables, and while I’m at it, teach my younger son that he should eat them. (Aint no alternatives where we’re going, kiddo!) I should practice the piano accordion, because I have a feeling it will be impossible to recharge our iPods, and those people who can play music and entertain others will be the last to be eaten.

There will be loads to do leading up to the doomsday date. We’ll all have full medical and dental checks. I’ll do a first aid course… get the low-down on bandaging snakebites etc. I’ll need my legs waxed and my hair done. And I’d better order an extra pair of prescription glasses.

I’ve started making an internal shopping list. Right at the top is vodka, proper coffee and toilet paper. There are certain standards in life. Extra contraception. The last thing I need is to fall pregnant after the apocalypse.

When we all go to hell in a hand basket, I want to have something decent to read. After all… I’ll probably be reading the same book over and over again for years. Some classics? Or the Harry Potter series? An encyclopaedia of World History? Would be a good reminder of where we stuffed up, so as we don’t do it again. The Bible? Nya! Take organised religion out of the equation and we wouldn’t be in half the mess we’re in.

Then there are all the things that will never happen. I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland… but is there any point if in 8-months it won’t exist? I hope my business is a success before Armageddon. Shallow I know, but it will give me something to bore everyone senseless with around the campfire every night. I’ll never buy that castle. I’ll now have to invest in a cabin near Dubbo. And there’s no point studying digital photography if I’d be better off learning where to dig for water.

My money is on waking up on December 22nd, 2012 and having a good giggle about these predictions. Mind you, I’ll still be 100 km inland. But I’ll fire up my laptop, and the world will still be a chaotic, yet beautiful mess. But it does make me pause and take stock of what’s really important, and how our values, and not the planet, need one hell of a shake-up.

Perhaps that will happen. And in the meantime… I’ll keep planning our trip.